STyLE
by rainkaimaramon
Summary: Hiatus The darkest, bloodest, horrific story based on a kid's show that adults write about that will possible be written in the next 23 and half hours, unless Stephen King shows up here.
1. Rated Immature

It was an alright day in Fair city. The Sky was party clouded with a threat of rain, near the edge of the south of city stood business man Mr. Big, with what seems to be his latest plan, but what's this, Wordgirl manages to figure out his plan and save the da...Wait a moment, I am not suppose to be here, I'm not getting paid. Let's let this story narrate itself, okay, see you later.

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RATED Immature.

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It was all over the papers, a buzz among the water coolers, in general chit chat among the people of Fair City, especially among those waiting in line at the first national national bank where the gossip was being spread among the costumers like wild fire. Which was alright to some, but to the Butcher, who had been waiting in line for exactly forty minutes to "withdrawal" some funds it was a bit vexing. Checking the clock on the wall than turning to someone behind him, who happen to be the man who runs around shouting for 'help'.

"Is that clock fast?"

"Nope," his voice a bit horsed. "I've been timing it against my watch and it seems in perfect sync."

"I was afraid you say that." Butcher noticed another costumer had finally left, moving the line a head. Glancing about while tapping his foot the large man kept his temper in check, his father taught that one must keep a level head during a bank heist no matter what, it was a matter of more deposits means more money in the long run. Once more glancing at the wall clock he wondered if a few extra dollars was worth the torture of waiting.

"Bampi said I could spend this on what I want," some child said up a head.

"Now I know son but this is a great time to learn the lesson of responsibility of saving," a man said. The Butcher palmed his face, this was going to be a long wait.

A head of the line another costumer walked away leaving young TJ Botsford, now aged 11, stepping forward with a check from his Grandfather in hand he looked up to the blond teller. "Hi, I'm here to open a account and put this check in it." he looked towards his father, "do I have too?"

"It's the responsible thing, TJ." His father, Mr. Botsford, spoke quiet confidentially. Before the check was slid upon the counter, he smiled at the teller. Within his mind a film rolled, it was scratchy and jumped in places:

"Oh, Oh no!" The blond teller would fake an expression of error. Complete

with "o" mouth and hand to check.

"What?" his wife, magically appearing out of nowhere, would

join her from behind.

"Whip cream is pouring out from the drawer,

and our clothes had vanished.

"Well then I think I need to rub this away." Sally giggled.

Then Wordgirl would show up.

"Okay," the teller spoke in the real world, "let's invest this." Her hands flew across the keyboard while eyes fixed on it, muttering a form of banker speak quickly until one final stroke and a beep. "Aaaand, it's gone. Next."

TJ stood there, dumbfounded, just stood there with eyes a bit wide. "What?" his tone cracked while the words just floated into his skull.

"I said it's gone, next."

"What!"

"I said next." the teller cupped her mouth, an old woman pushed passed TJ with her rascal and slid a check across the counter, the same process and words were repeated until, "aaaand, it's gone. Next." The old woman held the same expression as the young kid, shocked and bemusement.

"Excuse me?" the old woman croaked.

"I said the money is gone, now I got to deal with real costumers who have money in this bank, NEXT!" the teller yelled.

"I was trying to teach my son how to be responsible" Mr. Botsford had cried.

"No problem, Mr. Botsford, I'll just shift some money from your account and then.." a bunch of bank jargon, "aaand, it's gone. NEXT!"

"Excuse me," the Butcher pushed his way to the front, holding his bag for looting to one side before stopping next to the Botsford men. "Uh, hi, sorry for this but I have been waiting in line for the last foamy minutes and want to robbify this bank."

"What?" The teller raised a brow.

"You know, to robbify, to take money." The Butcher raised the sack, pointing at it to make his point.

"Yeah I can guess that," she said. "Where do you think there's money here?"

"Well because this is a bank," the meat man was a bit confused. "And usually banks have money."

"Not in this economy, NEXT!"

"Wow." TJ was a bit dumbfounded, "you're rude."

"Agreed." Mr. Botsford nodded.

"Well let's see who's- are you kidding me?" Butcher was preparing for a meat attack only to be stopped by the teller, when she held up the empty cash drawer for all to see. "This harkly seems like worth the effort." with that the Butcher had left the building, trailing behind him were a few angry costumers.

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Joe sipped from his coffee, watching the local government's stimulus plan did get dull but it was his job and could not ask questions. No, it was his job to guard and that's what he's going to do, for he was Joe the Guard. Another sip eyes shifted around the empty lobby, sight crossed those "won emoh eb dlouw ouy ereh devil uoy fI" signs in the windows starring some stylized 50's family and some posters along the walls telling people to keep the hallways clear for safety. Another sip, just another day for Joe the guard while standing watch at the new SP Tower recently acquired by the U.S. Government a few months ago and soon to be home of a large influx of new citizens of Fair City within the next few days.

Time lapsed and Joe just sat there, often glancing towards one end of the hallway or out the glass doors. Coffee had be sucked down a while ago now he was thinking of taking leave for a piss, which what a vandal might be waiting for. 'But Joe,' the buck toothed kid on the poster looking both in and out of the building had said, at least in the guard's mind, 'why would anyone want to attack an empty apartment building.'

'Well dickshit Timmy,' Joe spoke thought back while glancing at the poster in the window. ' There is a lot of crazies out there, and they like to go into places where there is not many people. This building being one of them it would be a perfect place to squat.' Dickshit Timmy could only smile, gape mouth and bucktooth showing, in response. 'Pecker head.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Joe swore that he saw the image change, the kid was flipping him off.

"Excuse me?"

Joe shouted, toppling over in his chair before staggering to his feet to find a woman standing near the station. Holding a box, and to a causal observer, wearing some sketchy clothes like a strange question marked shirt under the brown, dusty jumpsuit and a mask. "Hey, don't sneak up on a guard when he's... Guarding."

"What are you guarding?" This faux employee spoke, leaning over the box a bit.

"This building." Joe dusted himself, then adjusted his cap. "What's in the box."

"What box?" she was looking around a bit.

"The one you are holding." he pointed.

"This box?" she held it up, "what if I told you these held energy saving lightbulbs?"

"I would have to ask to see these lightbulds." he eyed the woman a bit, she just open the box to show several smaller boxes, each one was clear and contained a light green bulbs in the shape of a question mark. "Seems alright, go ahead."

"Would a thanks suffice?" Joe nodded as she walked towards the elevator before going back to guarding the lobby. Time lapsed again the woman was back, box empty and strutting by without a second thought and now it was a waiting game.

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Being a young super heroine is hard enough, like not having enough recreational time or having to miss important events because of "something came up". Now imagine what puberty does, what it does for normal people does thirty times worse to a 13 year old Lexite girl who happens to be trying really hard to be taken seriously as a hero. That's hard to do with size C's, some times it was really embarrassing when some guys stop and leer. Sometimes, just sometimes, she wished ether to be not a superhero, be a boy or have a smaller bust.

"Stupid genetics," Wordgirl mutter to herself after changing into the uncomfortable costume. The costume, in style, was basically the same thin material made out of metal, plastics and ceramics - because one never knows when a fast or sharp object like a knife, bullet or debris is going to show up - but within was some wicked engineering that allowed her body to appear a bit more 'bland' with a modest A cup and less hips. Hellishly uncomfortable, but it did not get in the way of crime fighting and kept the lude comments to a minimal.

Her partner, Captain Huggyface, chirped in curiosity.

"Hm, oh, just thinking out loud," Wordgirl scanned the ground as many patrols before, not much is going on. A few villains were out, basically running common errens and doing nothing worth busting. Yet. The city was the same, sure a few structures change and people come in and go over the years but what place, city, town, village or cardboard shanties, don't have comings and goings. "Hey, aren't those the buses carrying the new citizens?" she pointed towards the southern point of town, "perhaps we should stop and give a welcome to the city?"

Huggyface would have said, 'yeah, let's get some good PR going with the new people,' in his own monkey chatter but instead pointed towards the bank a few blocks away.

"What? The Butcher!" with her catch phrase and a streak the girl was soon before the bank where people were leaving a bit angry, and perhaps disappointed. "Alright hold right there Butcher."

"Hold what, you know what that joke's done to death." Butcher waved off his nemesis, taking a seat at a bench near the bus stop.

She glanced at the bag then around the area, there actually a few villains known for bank robbing just wondering around seeming lost. "Uh, what's going on?"

"Don't you know, the bank's out of money." The meat slinging man huffed. Now that there is no bank to rob the rest of the day was kind of shot, "I mean how does a bank run out of green turf."

"Stuff."

"Thanks, but point being how does this happen? Is the eco-eco... Whatever that word is so bad that a decent supervillain can't earn a dishonest living."

"So... Was a crime committed here?" Wordgirl looked around a bit confused, "I mean did you wrap someone up in meat or anything?"

"Nope, not even worth that." Butcher sighed.

"Well since a crime technically had not committed I'm going back on patrol." exchanging byes and darting off into the sky.

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There was strange sight, what look like a shooting star had streaked across the sky. Heading upward, and turning as if it had a mind of it's own. Oh well, nothing to worry about for the new residence of SP Towers, who were coming in droves of buses provided by the government as part of the new stimuli plan. The plan, on paper, sounded good, step one was find several struggling small towns and buy up the land with the promise of new, nicer homes, step two move said town into a larger urban environment regardless of distance and step three watch the economy go up from the growth of populace

Stepping off of the bus and stretching from hours of sitting he looked at the new home for his family, brushing aside some black hair and slipping the blue and red baseball cap on than turned towards his older sister and mother. "This our new home?"

"Yes, Stanley." Mrs. Marsh lugged a few bags over a shoulder, "our apartment should be around the middle there." He looked up again, the place was large. Large enough to take in their whole town, but of course the town was small to begin with so it was all a moot point.

"Sunvabitch!" Ass master came rolling out of another bus, stuff in hand and P.O.'ed as always. "I hope I don't get Jew Jerms from sitting near Kyle that long."

"Shut up fatass!" Kyle scrambled out, puffy red hair bouncing in defiance of the laws of gravity, while hoisting a gym bag. "I should be the hoping I don't get Fatass syndrome from sitting next to you!"

The 13 year old Rolly polly turned and glared, "shut up, heeb."

"Up your's, Ass master!"

"Mom and dad are fighting again."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP KENNY!" Both Kyle and Cartman shouted at Kenny after he stepped out onto the sidewalk, the McCormick family carried no luggage, everything they owned was literally on their backs. Stan held back a laugh before moving with the crowd into the large building, "Which place you got?"

Kenny looked over at Mr. McCormick, for an answer, "It's.. 12 W."

"We're 18 D."

"I would like to know some one with 33 D," Kenny smirked, winked and giggled.

"Oh grow up." Stan huffed.

"Ah'll kill you Kaal!"

"Not if I kill you first fat ass!" The fight raged on as they wondered into the crowed lobby, greeted by Half Wit Al, Loose Jane, Dickshit Jimmy and Fartsworth the dog. They simple stated they are home now. "So which place you got?"

"2 G."

"Damn it!" Kyle glared, walking next to the large boy. "I got 3 G."

"Sunvabitch!" Cartman snapped.

Everyone one entered the tower, the news among Fair City residence had came to a head. Buzzword of new people arriving was on everyone's lips, from the banks to the water coolers it was news. Now it's old news, sunsetting on the whole thing and the next day will bring new challenges. And a whole new era for the sleepy city.

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Becky walked with confidence, like many times before and perhaps many times after, books cradled in the crooks of her arms while her long brown dress nearly scrapped the floor a few times during the morning routine towards her lockers and to class. Many students often were neutral towards her, some liked her sensibility (read, leaving it to imagination) while some thought she was a strange prude (read, frustrated virgins), the rest just did not care. Waving at Violet at the lockers the brunette took notice of how many more students there was now, much possibly from the Tower. Slightly kicking herself for not introducing her alter ego the other night, it slipped her mind after talking to the Butcher but there will be time later, hopefully.

"Ow, watch.." Something had knocked the wind out of her with a slight force, glaring she saw Tobey, still basically the same only taller, face a bit rounder and long pants instead of shorts, stand there with a half phoney smile. "Hey, Becky. I was just looking for you."

"The answer is no, to any and all things with you." She spoke flatly, walking away he kept a few steps behind her.

"Come on, we had our differences in the past but I am sure we can over look them to cement a new friendship." Tobey smiled, barely keeping in stride with her.

"My mom can't reduce your sentence, Tobey." Becky still took a flat tone. "You just have to serve it like everyone else."

"What? What do you eve... Fine, I'll find away to get out of this harsh punishment." Tobey muttered after wandering away, only a nod towards Violet while storming off. A while ago he had been sentenced to ten months under house arrest with only school as an exception, and no contact with his robots was allowed. Becky mused that this is week one, what is he going to be like by week two?

"Becky, did you see the new students?" Violet beamed a bit, she also had not changed much except grew taller and her hair was down the the nap of her neck. Becky would muse that she must be the only to change, and sometimes that change was set to fast forward. Violet had open her locker, shove some things in and close it quickly, "I think there must be a hundred of them, or a thousand."

"Oh that's an exaggeration." teasing while gesturing the two were on the move, "but there seems to be a lot of them, hope the staff can handle this much."

"I wonder what kind of people they would be like?"

"Well we can pounder that later, we got class to get to-OW!" Again someone had walked into the brunette girl, but this time whoever it was was heavier, much heavier. If Becky did not have the strength of many men she would be sprawled on the floor, spread eagle with papers everywhere.

"HEY!" was all the response was, "watch where you're going!"

"Where I'm going, you walked into me!" she straighten herself out while glaring at the person, possibly truck, that ran into her. He was large, not by height but mere girth.

"You're crowding the hall spec!" His fat face seem to be just a form of harden hate with beady eyes, Becky and Violet were taken back by what he said. "What? Can't speak Englie? Se habla dumbass?"  
>"You!" Becky was very dangerously close to clocking this kid, Violet stepped right in front of her, with an expression of sheer rage.<p>

"You can't say those things, especially to my friend, pal!" Violet actually had her hands balled in fury.

"Whatever." the kid blew a raspberry at them, just as it was about to come to blows Bob had chirped to stop them from making a bad mistake. The two watched the large kid waddle away, not before he slid his hand behind his back and made the one finger salute, by then the bell had rung. It was time for first period.

(AUTHOR'S POSTWORD)

Offended yet? Well I just got started, I am going to earn that R/M rating come hell or high water. There is really not much to say about this "work", it was something to parody many instant dark Wordgirl stories out there, you know the one's with everyone dying, divorcing and sexing everyone and the tone is death, death, evil, evil, evil, devil, devil and seem to be written in passing by Edward Lee while on the can bored out of his mind. Don't get me wrong, this is the same thing but more peppered with Chuck Paina... The guy who wrote Fight Club, Rant, Haunted and Invisible Monster. Also there might be a style, I don't know yet.

Also odds are 9 to 1 you are reading this story on FFN and chances are the formating had, AND WILL, screw up the formating and find paragraphs large gapping holes between the lines then please do yourself a favor, go to Deviantart, look up my account Rainkaimaramon and download the story there as it will be formated more like a book instead of a fractured HTML file or squished Text file.

And please do me one favor, if you spot any grammar mistakes outside of some character speeches please point them out, I hate when I hear "you make some grammar mistakes here and there" and no example is given. I mean if I know about the mistakes they would not be there, now would there? Well, maybe for the exception of character way of speech.

Thank you for reading, next chapter coming when I feel like it.


	2. Define THIS

Fume, there was two definitions to this word. 1). Fumes are a strong, nearly visible gas emitted from an object, like gasoline fumes or car fumes. 2). To be visible angry, such as how Becky felt after sitting down in class thinking of the rude, and possibly racist, student in the hallway. Tobey, and a few others, seen this look before, and in extreme cases like when an unicorn was broken and inched slowly away from her desk.

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Define THIS!

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Cartman's ill natured muttering could be heard as they wondered into the class among other students, Kyle was near by yet herded in without reaction, Stan heard the insulting slang terms and tried to tell him to cool it, and Kenny just did not give a rat's ass about any of it. Seating took place quickly, and let's be honest here about people being trucked in, which brings kids that in turn is shoveled into a building that was not prepared to take the extra rugrats which meant the classroom was going to be packed like sardines. With next to no extra desks being available many of the new students had to "share" with existing students. A lot of students, many male, few female, with one thing obviously on their mind tried to sit next to the brown haired girl near the middle row or the blond next to her, the brunette was polite but often stated the desk had already been taken. The blond, a bit more shy, had a smirking Kenny just slide right next to her.

If there was ever a metaphor for sex that paragraph would be the grand title of the whole book written about it. But it is not about sex, it was just some students finding somewhere to sit with the granted a few are perverts but who isn't in life. Get over it.

"This taken?" Wendy Testaburger, bit player to the story and all around alright girl, had said.

"No, take a seat." the brunette had inspected her, she was nether drooling nor staring where eyes should not wonder which is a good start. When sitting down hands did not crawl over to thighs, breasts or throat which is a good sign.

Wendy placed her stuff into a neat pile in the desk before turning, "my name's Wendy."

"Becky, nice to meet you." she perked up and seem to think to herself she actually found a 'sane' person from the tower. Before any more conservations could take place Mr. Garrison, being just hired by the school, sauntered in, or was it amble? Stride? Well he walked in with box of stuff in hand.

"Good Morning children." He spoke while shoved the box onto the desk, "I am new to this school but many already know me. I am Mr. Garrison." Writing the name upon the blackboard as he spoke.

"Uh, what is a garrison?" A kid asked, the one that with black hair.

"A garrison is a place where soldiers -"

"HEY! I'M THE TEACHER HERE MISSY!" Mr. Garrison had cut into the young brunette girl, she was a bit wide eyed at the sudden reaction. "If it there anyone who's going to teach it's going to be me! Got it?

"I was just defining a word for someone."

"I'M THE TEACHER!" Mr. Garrison had less resembled a man and more like a fairy tale troll, angered that someone knew his name after spinning hay into gold. Complete with bent arms and hopping. "I WENT TO COLLAGE FOR TWO YEARS TO GET A DEGREE! DID YOU? DID YOU MISS SMARTY PANTS?"

"I- I..." Becky was close to shock, from a few students POV she almost looked she was ether have a nervous break down, cry or perhaps both. "Sorry, I'll just.."

"YOU'LL KEEP YOUR SMARTY MOUTH SHUT DURING MY CLASSES, MISS SMARTY PANTS!" Mr. Garrison pointed, Becky could only nod in agreement, and fear. "So Mary Shelly's Frankenstein was based on baron.."

"Don't take it personally," Wendy had written on some scrap paper. "He does this all the time." Becky, still flustered from her new teacher's near violent outburst, just glanced sideways towards her, she also wrote, "you'll get use to it."

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TJ was fairing a bit better during class, there were not many kids his age from the Tower taking over his desks nor was there a crazy teacher who, right at this moment, was slyly discussing penis sizes of classically fictional characters and why it mattered. Leaving that disgusting thought aside here he was, half bored and wanting something exciting to happen. Perhaps a robot attack or some kind of crime would break out and they would have to sit in the large school playground, kind of a half day. Looking outside he saw no robots nor a costumed villain approaching, back to learning for you kid.

TJ gleaned the work before him, his mind kind of else where at the moment like off saving the city.

Dr. Two brains had fiendishly finished a new ray that would

destroy the entire world with a single trigger pull but what's

this? It's The Home Run King come to save the day with Wordgirl!

With body on autopilot answering questions the mind was running through fire rings, swinging sharp pendulums and perhaps raising and falling floors avoiding death at every turn. The reality of this was no villain in town was that dastardly, sure they were threats, and perhaps a few people got bruised in the process yet that is as bad as it got, accidents and random crimes had more "pop" to them. Of course he had seen what a truly random looked like, often at the DA's office he would get a good quick, five second look at crime scene photos before being shuffled off into evidence lock ups. His mom would freak out if she knew he seen them, and rightly so but he kept that to himself. And sometimes he was actually happen the villains were mostly harmless in this city, fantasy was one thing but to face the real thing...

He shuttered at the thought, finishing, though not that well, the work he glanced out the window towards the city skyline. It was a clear afternoon, there might be a supervillain planning on some grand scheme out there, from TJ's perspective it seemed very unlikely.

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"You alright Becky?" Violet was comforting her friend after two verbal assaults, and in such a sort time too.

"I'm fine." Becky muttered while shuffling out of the class. Truthfully the young lexite was really confused, angry and a bit stunned by these new people's attitude, why were they so rude? And not like Reginald with nose in the air and fingers twitching to gesture get away, but in a horrid, going to need a strait jacket way. Careful what you say to the Tower people, the Towies, they will, not might, WILL, go off on you. "But how about you, you alright? That kid you got stuck seems bit, well..."

"It's okay," Violet smile. "In fact he's just a very little dog with a big bark," all talk no real action if you want to read into it. "Oh, I forgot to ask, who did you get for a study buddy?"

Becky's eyes darted down, a small piece of folded paper with a name written on it, this was handed to her by her new teacher. Wendy told her that he started this idea before leaving South Park, it was something about being effectual or some bull. Fingers fumbled around the edges before the name was clear, "a.. Eric.. Cartman?"

"Don't know who that is," Violet leaned close before looking at her own. "I got Kenny, he's my desk partner, I guess that kid of.."

"Convinant."

"What?"

"Convinant, to have something happen in favor, like if a candy bar fell into Bob's hands when he's hungry," she glanced to the side with Bob perked up but then frown when he realized it was hypothetical. "Or getting a partner already at your desk, it would be convinant."

"Oh, thanks. You're a regular Wordgirl."

"Me, no, I'm just a regular kid." Becky was shifting, nervous and awkwardly. Returning to normal composurer the girls walked to the next class.

"Excuse me?" The duo stopped, turning their heads to see a blond girl, 12, possibly 11, very nervous, shifty and, lack of a better term, seemingly off, hunched over and holding some books. "Could you tell me where the principle's office is? I seem to gotten myself in trouble."

"Well, it's just down that hall." Violet pointed, confused on how such a innocent, and some say sickly, kid get into any trouble. "I'd take you but my class is going to start in a minute."

"Oh thank you very much," the kid whispered a bit while drifting away. The blond seem to be more like a ghost in movements, disappearing into the crowd of students.

"What did she do?" Becky pondered out loud

"He'd probably bite someone again," another voice broke in. Wendy came from behind, adjusting her purple beret. "It happens with him."

"Him?" Violet raised a brow.

"He bite someone!" Becky a bit shocked.

"Yep, just went right for the jugular too." Wendy was still smiling, as if she was on guide of a tour. Picture if you will her in an uniform in a war, bombs going off and dust being kicked up, limbs were lost and bullets frayed flesh here and over there, she would just say, 'over there we have a flamethrower unit, does that not just smell teasty?' and in back would be some joker going, 'why, yes it does!'

"Why is he still walking around?" Becky eyed the path the kid vanished through, "he should be in jail!"

"That was a while ago, and Ms. Cyko never pressed charges." Wendy walked away, "in fact I think she liked it."

"What!" both girls were a bit wide eyed. These new classmates of their's were starting to frighten them, between the tub of anger that almost ran her down, the perverts bouncing around the class and now a very dangerous kid they wonder, for the first time in their young lives, it was worth coming to school at all.

The bell finally rang.

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Kyle was chewing over a particular problem on the test, he was seated next to a red headed girl in a very nicely made pretend princess gown. It kind of amused him, looking towards Kenny, who seated with a blond girl, would kill for an opportunity like this and then at Cartman, seated next to some goofy kid with glasses and sweater vest and probably verbally ripping into him by now, trying so hard teetering on the edge of the cramped seat not to fall into the aisle. If that happened would burst into a fit of laughter, Cartman knew that and would rather murder his desk partner then give his nemesis the satisfaction.

The giggles had caught the red head's attention, curious she just asked. "What's so funny?"

"Over there." Kyle was grinning while pointing towards Cartman, who was crushing the poor kid. There was a few audible 'get off of me you ox!' then he gagged, the ass master farted. When the strain was too much the kid had manage to slip out, in a struggle, and just sit on the outside of the desk. Some how it was still not enough room and Cartman was still teetering on the edge. "I'll bet dollars to doughnuts he'll fall."

"That's a bwit mean."

"He's got it coming," Kyle ignored the mispronounced word, "trust me."

"Stwill." the red headed girl was going to push further just as Mr. Garrison had started handing out small papers explaining these would be the new "Study Buddy System" for the school year. The red head had quickly opened her's, the name was Stan Marsh.

Kyle looked at his, Tobey MacCalister, the third. Later on he, Stan, Kenny and Cartman were leaving the class and getting ready for the next round. Cartman darted hateful glares at Kyle, knowing he was forcing his 'mystical ill Jew will', as he put it, towards him and Kyle would retort that was not some mystical ill, it was gravity rejecting his ass, it was too heavy to exist on earth. Nothing said but it never had to be.

"Who'd you get for a buddy?" Kenny broke the silent insult war.

"A girl named Eileen." Stan held up his paper.

"Tobey." Kyle added.  
>"Rebecca Botsford," Cartman scorned. "What kind of name is that?"<p>

"Why does it say Becky?" Kenny pointed towards Cartman's paper.

"Because, dick that's why."

"What?" Stan scrunched his face, trying to understand the logic.

"Screw you guys, that's what."

"How about you, Kenny?"

"That girl I'm sitting next to," he held up his paper. "Girl is a desert ice berg, never catching the drift and possibly freeze off your parts if you touched her."

"...Nicely put, Kenny." Stan was sarcastic, time to make way for next period. The crowd seemed a bit thicker, like a seat of people that one had to squeeze through. He saw Butters, looking hoveled and also spook like with those dark rings under his eyes, but ignored him on the way the next place.

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SP Towers was something of an oddity, starting off as a very simple business complex built by Kyas Limited, which fell behind taxes which the city took it, then soon sold over to Mr. Big Enterprises then sold to the US government who in turn chopped up the shares, sold that to charities who bought up lands all over the country and they transported people from bought up land to a place like this and are given huge tax brakes among other considerations by the government. By the end locals did not know if the place was coming or going, they even swore it gained a few stories as it changed hands leading into the rumor there was something wrong with the place.

She never believed in ghosts though, and if she did why would it haunt a brand new high rise when a perfectly good decayed building was down the street? Slipping on her guise and carefully walking in Ms. Question had eyed the guard, Joe, before going to the elevators. Joe seemed a bit confused, befuddled really, which caused her to smile. It was going to be slow going but in the end this would be the biggest haul of her villain career, it was not just a matter of waiting for dark.

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Coming home was like a nightmare, a real one, the ones people have when they lay their heads down and fall asleep. It was quick, excepted and very unnerving. Of course who goes to bed saying to themselves, 'you know what, I want to have a nightmare tonight. One that will make me scream by George!'?

Becky wanted to scream, she really did. Upon opening that door to her home, home gleefully cooking in the kitchen while her brother was on the couch watching TV. Bob had dived right to the couch, Becky was going to step all the way in until she had seen the large red blob sitting at the table. Eyes wide and hands a bit clammy.

"Hi Becky." Mrs. Botsford smiled, then became concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"What is.." Becky pointed towards the mass, who was just turning around and glare with those hateful beady eyes.

"I thought Mexicans had more kids," he said. "The rest coming home soon?"

"No, no." Mrs. Botsford spoke, missing the dark undertone. "We're not Mexican, thought they have a nice culture, I am Sicilian and my husband is Maltese.."

"Uh-huh, I don't care which part of south of the boarder you come from," rolling eyes and turning around he ignored the older woman. "I just want to get whatever assignment done so I can go home and play my Nintendo Wii, which has Mad World by Sega."

"No, those places are not south of the boarder, they're in Europe." Mrs. Botsford corrected, or try to.

Becky was a bit jilted, she can't remember how she manage to drag the insufferable kid into the backyard, out of earshot of her family just in case he said something really offensive, which he will. "Okay, class project, get to know your buddy." Checking over everything she read it was just a bunch of questions to ask one's partner then surmise what kind of person they are, easy enough.

"Can we please get on with this?" Cartman's voice was going into her head, to the point of gnashing her teeth.

"Certainly," she muttered. "Now Eric."

"Cartman, Spec."

There was a moment of silence, "Now Eric," shuffle papers. "What's your favorite recreational activity."

Cartman just stared. "What?"

"You know, recreational activity, it's where you take time to do something you enjoy like a hobby or a craft."

Cartman stared. "I don't speak habla."

Pinching the bridge of her nose while shaking her head she only could mutter, "Pass time, what's your favorite pass time. And it's Espeno, not habla."

"Playing Mad World on Nintendo Wii, by Sega, which is being cut into by this insane jibberjabber. Now what's your favorite pass time?"

"Reading."

"Boring!"

More silence, and a dead eye look. "Of course it is, to you." Becky wrote that down. "Alright next question, who is your hero?"

"Let me think about that," Cartman tapped his chin before answering. "Mel Gibson, for making passion of the Christ."

Again, silence. "You're kidding, right?"

"Of course I am," he laughed, gesturing in a manner that made her a little more eased. "It's Adolf Hitler."

Silence.

Stunned Silence.

Shocked Silence.

"Are you joking?"

"Uh, Rebecca, you are not writing this down."

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

"GET OUT!"

The shout actually caused the windows to vibrate, it started Violet for a moment then quickly return to her guest. "I see Becky is getting to know Cartman." Kenny joked before sipping some tea, he managed to navigate the mine field of random actions like the singing squire, poetry rock and the dancing chair to the one true nuteral zone in the house.

"I hope he's okay."

"I'd worry about her more," Kenny glance around the place. It looked like a head shop puked here, mix in some Lincoln logs and you got yourself a little home that would drive fat boy insane. 'Still better where I came from,' he thought. With paper in hand the whole process started, "okay, what's your favorite... Un, oh, pass time?"

"It's making art," with quick hands she pulled out a few canvases. Most of it were bowls of fruit, a few landscapes and just random people she seen at the park. "How about you?"

'Wanking self.' is not a good answer to give so he just said, "hanging with friends."

"That's nice. Who's your hero?"

"My hero?"

"Yes. Mine's Ms. Chapline, who's your's?" Violet lean in a bit closer, curious for an answer.

"I don't, really have a hero." Kenny was being honest, "never really looked up to any in my life."  
>"Then what do you do if you are in the dumps and you need to be inspired? Who do you look up, to make you feel better?"<p>

"No one, never really put much thought into it."

"I guess just skip that question," Violet moved on. "Where are you from?"  
>"South Park, Colorado."<p>

"Is it nice there?" the vision of large mountains and endless trees seem to shine within her eyes, almost like some Tolkien-equse Shire.

"Yeah, sure it is." Kenny just did not have the heart to tell her that South Park is truly the cess pool of the universe, and not in the fictional sense ether.


	3. All Characters in the world are

All super heroes have alter ego problems, it's always dealing with nothing but psychological problems nowadays, mom in the fridge, dad's in the trunk, brother's chained in the basement and here they are all alone and grieving to make them "relatable", flawed. Yet some times, it's just fun to watch someone get their jaw punched without repercussions.

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All Characters in the world are SUES!

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Pretend princess, that's the feeling one gets when they stepped into the room. From the puffy sheets and the drapes to the rose pink and white color scheme it just screamed fairy tale delusion. Stan kept that observation to himself though as he could see the new Otama game sphere 180 X version 7.0 hooked up to a nice 17 inch tv, state of the art and knew to play it he might have to make nice with the red headed girl, possibly play some other games with her before managing to get his hands on that sweet, sweet little system.

"How do you like my room?" she was being pert, hands folded before her and rocking on her feet.

"Nice, very nice." Stan stared at the machine in the corner. She was beaming while pulling out the tea set, he was not even paying much attention and only responded with the same emotion of an automaton with the occasional "Yes", "No", "Neil Patrick Harris" and"Broncos". The pretend princess ether did not noticed her guest was ignoring her or just did not care, she kept on talking about how the day was her birthday and that all of the wonder stuff her gets her which she trotted out in vain.

"This is my bed," she gestured towards it, "it's where I sleep, play with my pwetty pwincess ponies and make out with the supwa hero girl with whips and chains..." she turned, disappointed but not surprised the black haired youth was drolling over a small box then her. "Weally?"

"David Lee Roth," Stan muttered not noticing his new class buddy turning green and growing. Taking a moment she began counting backward and breathing, the shrink had taught her after a few court ordered sessions. "So do you play much, uh, other games? Such as the video kind?"

It was going to be a long study session.

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Rage was something rarely felt by her, and yelling loud was reserved for the highest importance. It was usually involved unicorns, and bothering/breaking them. Never had she wanted to lay her hands upon anyone and cause due harm, even when her shows were interrupted, nor when the unicorns were broken. She scowled, sure, fist clinched and shaking were involved. But it never gotten this far, never had it taken her mother emerging and pushing the rude boy out the house, whom had said some nasty slang terms right in front of her, and an hour of very careful talking down to get Becky to not hunt down and strangle the ass master. Once she was not red in the face the lexite was breathing hard, then finally allowed to walk around without supervision.

"What a dreadful little boy," Mrs. Botsford had her hands full, TJ and Bob hidden behind the couch waiting for the war to be over. Mr. Botsford, who was upstairs storing his tie collection, had heard most of the commotion, came down than ran back into the master bedroom and hid. She took there, taking what her daughter brought to bare.

Once in a bit more control, at least enough not to do something completely stupid she just said, "I.. I'm going for a walk.."

"Just. Please stay away from, that boy," her mother said. "And you might want to bring Bob with, just in case."

"Come on Bob." The monkey, reluctant as he was, followed her out the door. He was afraid, what she could do and what she might do. Half, more three quarters actually, wanted to follow, the rest wanted to hid and crap his diaper. Once a block from the house they wonder quickly behind some trees before becoming their Alter Egos.

It was a while before her mood changed, losing some track of time but her anger was melting away. Flying, perhaps it was she needed to feel better. CHF chirped, curious about her state of mind.

"I'm fine," Wordgirl shifted. Biting her lower lip, what came over her then? What is it about that kid, that possibly 120 pounds of anger, that just hits a nerve in her? A raw nerve, one she never knew existed. It was scary, what if she had been on patrol when it happened, what if her mother was not there to chase him away, what if she had broke his neck anyway. Too many what ifs, many of them turned her stomach.

She was hoping, for the an odd change, that a crime would happen. Something silly and light hearted like Chuck or Amazing Rope Guy, she would even take Granny May at the moment. Huggyface chirped, pointed and she smiled, her wish was granted.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

The plan worked! Everyone are too dumbfounded to stop her crime spree, filling one sack after another as the residence of the tower watched helplessly while she just grabbed the valuables as they just stood there asking questions and never acting. Pleased with coming up with such a great plan that it often felt like stop and admire the handy work, "dare I say this plan worked so well that it felt criminal?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

Darting around Ms. Question could see the local superhero just floating near the edge of the roof, "Wordgirl?"  
>"I'm here to put an end of your curiosity, and your crime spree." Wordgirl.<p>

"Why would you want to stop my curiosity?"

"Look, it's just something to say." Wordgirl slumped for a moment, within moments dodging magical question marks as Ms. Question gone back into the building and down a flight of stairs, hoping to ensnare her into her great plan. Down two flights before bursting into a random floor the woman turned and pressed a finger against a light switch, a form of "caution sense" went off as the heroine floated near the doorway.

"Would you try to come closer?"

"I got a bad feeling about this Huggy," Wordgirl kept her eyes on the villainousness.

"Suppose you're right, Wordgirl?" with that Ms. Question tapped the switch and laughed. The moment was charged with electric as the duo had ducked, glancing all around. Moments passed, pretty soon they were standing alert but a bit lost. Eventually the laughter died as Ms. Question kept on flipping the switch, a few times at first then rapidly. "What is wrong with this?"  
>"HEY, STOP PLAYING WITH THE DAMN LIGHT SWITCH!" a man with a black mustache popped out into the hallway screaming, "SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO DRINK A MARGARITA HERE!"<p>

"Isn't it 5 in the afternoon?" Ms. Question raised a brow.

"Don't judge me!" the man had returned to normal shouting volume.

"Give it up Ms. Question, you're plan..." she glanced all around, "...whatever it was, is over!"

"I don't get it, did the bulbs give out?" Ms. Question was about to give a befuddle blast but was quickly ensnared within some carpeting that Wordgirl tore up in a flash. Struggling for a few seconds she gave up, "what went wrong? Weren't my green light bulbs working?"

"You were the one that brought those green light bulbs," the man raised a brow then drank from the margarita glass. "Well tell you're little tree hugging friends we don't need them."

"Excuse me?" Ms. Question honestly asked.

"Oh come on, everyone knows green bulbs don't do diddly squat so we just sent them back," he swirled his drink a bit knowing he was getting low.

"What, you mean. You had taken out my bemusement bulbs."

"Bemusement?"

"Uh, let me explain," Wordgirl interjected. "Bemusement is a state of confusion, such as Ms. Question here is wondering why her light bulbs are removed or me wondering what is she talking about?"

"Uh did I ask you to tell me what that meant?" the black haired man glared at them.

"But I got to know, what happen to my green light bulbs?"

"Geez, can't anyone take a hint?" He was getting frantic, waving arms around with a bit of jazz hands thrown in. Yes, he did spill his drink, "listen, none of us believe that hippy save the world with dildo looking lights, we replaced them with real light bulbs, alright? Can I go back to mixing margaritas?"

"Wait, you mean this whole time they had been regular bulbs?" Ms. Question's eyes were pretty wide.

"Gah!" the black haired man stormed off, screaming for a woman named Sharron to help mix up more booze before slamming the door.

"He's seems a bit rude." Wordgirl muttered before taking Ms. Question down the the ground where police were driving by.

Ms. Question, while being cuffed and taken away, thought it over. If her confusing green light bulbs were not in place that means everybody she had stolen from was not under her power, which means that no one was dumbfounded, they were just plain old dumb. "What is with those people?"

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

"Stupid spec, kicking me out." Cartman was muttering while walking the fine streets of Fair City in a huff. "Well at least I now get to spend my time doing what I love..."

"HELP! SOMEONE'S ROBBING THE JEWLERY STORE!" Cartman's attention had been diverted towards to corner where he could see some guy with a pony tail shouting, trying to get the attention of a black and white unit. Snorting he just walked on by, thinking on how cool it would be if everything was like Mad World, black and white, with a bunch of red just spurting out of people who get injured. Just imagine, the guy had his head twisted off and it would shower red. Cartman, in his deranged little mind, had danced in the middle of it all, dressed in leather and a chainsaw for an arm. Letting it rain red, that's the way to go.

In the real world though he was just walking away without a second thought. Okay, maybe just one. "HIPPY!" he shouted at the brown haired man and he was on his way home.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Charlie never had seen it coming. Landing with a sound thud he gone down, and hard.

Charlie is no stranger to pain, before becoming a henchmen for hire he worked in an shoe assembly line as a machine maintenance worker for three years, thing break down so he would fix them and sometimes in the process stuff falls, things stab and junk just plain old hits him. By the time the company was closed and he was laid off Charlie had at least fifteen to twenty concussions on the line, not that he mind, it was a part of life. And for the past fifteen years as a henchmen were no different, work on a ray and have stuff fall him was no different, he only had four concussions through out his henchmen career though.

This is why despite being a hard blow Charlie did not black out, it was more of a surprise than force. Landing he hear a metallic click then felt some stinging pain in the his upper arms, glancing down he could see that he had landed into some form a contraption, like a bear trap with smaller, less dangerous tines. Trying to stand he found himself a bit pained from the tines and found it was bolted down, upon inspection one could find he was standing on a large piece of concealed metal. A clanking sound brought his attention around to see his feet shackled down, unable to move much he would have shouted, being a silent man he only spoke when necessary, and it has to be very important, too bad there was now a piece of rope in his mouth. Struggling to get free the large man was wheeled off like a toy dog, which was irksome to say the least. Into the darkness with him, out of sight for now as there was more business at hand.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

For the sheer number of things to obsess over, robots, a local public figure, a sports team, it was strange that Ice cream, steakhouses and rock and roll were would be one of the things a engineering genius would pour much time over. Kyle was curious of why if someone was under house arrest that it was "alright" to come to a steakhouse, Black Angus mind you, where they had an bottomless pig trough of bacon mixed with dough and a mind field of food to navigate, but he did not say anything when the waiter brought the steaks.

"So what's your favorite," Tobey paused on how to dumb down recreational time.

"Activity?" Kyle dug in.

"Yeah."

"Full contact football would be one thing." Kyle was given a strange look by the blond boy, which he responded with a flat "what?"

"No offense I did not really think of you being-

"Because I look like a girl, got it, get that all the time." Kyle just ignored the "no-nos" on Tobey's behalf, "I'm use to it, so just drop it. Next question."

"You're from Colorado?"

"Yeah, how you know?"

"It's pretty much all everyone had talked about for the passed three weeks," pretty much everyone at the courthouse anyway. "I know you came from the Towers so it was logical."

"Right. How about you, where you from?"

"Here, I grew up in this city and born in the city next over."

"What place would that be?"

"I would rather not say, let's leave it at that."

"Heroes?"

"Again, rather not say." It's Wordgirl, we all knew that.

"Okay." he drawed out, the rest of the meeting was in minor chit chat that really lead to not much.

"And when I come home dealing with dicks and assholes I just feel like sitting down and watching dicks and assholes," Tobey was being sarcastic while rubbing his temple. "And that's why I don't care for tv."

"Can't argue with that." Kyle remember so many shows like that, "it's getting late."

"Yep," Tobey shifted while fishing out some of his money, "going Dutch?"

"Yeah why not." Kyle fished out his own changed, if his friends (Cartman) were that they would tease him about the penny pinching stereotype. It was kind of nice to actually talk to someone would did not bring that up, like ever five minutes. This felt like a start of a good friendship.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

"Charlie's been gone a while," the henchman glanced around the hideout. His boss was currently putting the finishing touches upon the latest scheme for the city's cheese supply, Dr. Two-brains stopped working for a second, glancing over his shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"I said Charlie had been outside for a while now."

"Oh, I thought it's serious."

"But what if something happened to him?"

"Geez what great horror movie dialog," Dr. Two-brains was annoyed. "If you're so worried about him then go look for him."

"But what if something's, out there?"

"Than I'll get some daisy dukes, stumble around in some pumps for a while in the darkness and get my head crushed in at the camp ground."

"Does that mean you won't help me look for Charlie?" Dr. Two-brains only could glare in annoyance before returning to the task at hand, "Guess not." The henchman heading out into the dark night, flashlight in hand. He looked around the front first, it was dark but nothing was there. The western front was still, so was the eastern so that left the dark alleyways behind the hideout. "Charlie?" he called out, no response. Again he called out the name, this time there was a response, a snapping sound. Fear jolted through him when the swiping sound was heard, like rope unraveling before falling, something had collided with his skull and hard.

Sprawled out for a moment the henchman tried to stand, failing due to dizziness. "Ow!" deciding on sitting for a moment he pulled his legs underneath himself for a moment and looked around, his vision was a bit blurred but the sight of the silhouettes of long lines against the stray night made him realized what hit him. A cage, the cage! A few days ago the doc ordered a new Titanium cage to catch Wordgirl in and wanted the old steel one thrown out, which the henchmen took to the curve to be taken on trash day, which was tomorrow. Taking off his beanie and rubbing his scalp the henchman found no blood, which was a good sign, he just banged his head on the cage ceiling. The flashlight, which had dropped out of hand during the impact and rolled off, illuminated something, a figure against the wall before it darted off, he could guess it was a superhero. The henchman just sat there knowing now it was matter of waiting for the police to show up, and not going into a coma. That should be simple, right?

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Twelve minutes, it had been twelve minutes since he wonder outside and did not come back. Under normal circumstances he would have never even noticed, but this was not normal. His mouse brain was a bit wound up, and there was a sense of danger in the air. Putting down the wrench he glanced about the lair, the henchmen have been gone for a while and he was now getting the feeling of being watched. "Wordgirl? Are you there?"

Nothing. No movement, no sound, absolutely nothing.

"Isn't it passed you're curfew?" jokes, a trademark of a super villain, were there to ease the tension but now it was just leaving a pit in his stomach. His hand reached for a ray gun on the work bench, an emergency backup on that dazzled anyone hit by it, no the most useful weapons but good for an escape or two. Something was off, he knew Wordgirl personally, before his villain days and after, and one thing he did not she was not one for the slasher shtick. It was always after finding enough evidence, and the plan, she would emerged no matter how many there were, not pick them off one by one. 'She was sneaking around it would be up in the...' The doc had a burst of speed while pointing the ray gun into the rafters, finding them empty and undisturbed. 'Or perhaps she is behind...' "HERE!" he popped up behind the large wooden creates left in many warehouses in the city, nothing there but a weeks worth of dust. Of course the lights, at that moment, had to cut out. Now he knew that this was not Wordgirl, it did not comfort him to know he was correct but at least he was right.

"Ouch!"

He held his shoulder, it was sore, if there was a light close by he would checked for bleeding but standing in the darkness the doctor could only guess. Cursing and wondering if someone had just cut his shoulder, or it was his own fault. "Alright, show yourself and I might go easy on you!"

Silence, utter silence. But there was movement, he can sense that much. Light was scarce, only filtering the street lamps through the windows there was a inkiness around the back areas. THERE! A break! The doctor rose up, fired off a round, the ray made a megaman like pew sound and a ball of green energy sailed across the lair, casting a green glow around it until it had got the target. It was a moment he felt triumphant, chest swelling up with pride and courage, only to have it deflated when the target fell apart, landing right into the line of streaming light from the window, now more fear had built up. Those things he hit? Were dolls, cat dolls, life sized little girl cat dolls dressed like clowns. Panic, which is a great moment to do so, he raised the ray again and fired off more rounds, this time just randomly and hoping to hit whoever was doing this. There were crashing sounds, a thump, things breaking and a loud scream of an animal (a cat that sneaked in) before he stood there breathing hard, sweating and shaking badly but pretty sure he had nailed whoever was trying to mess with Dr. Two-Brains.

Silence, utter silence. But there was no movement, he sensed that much. No, wait, there is movement. Near the back, and now a sound, scratching, a horrible scratching sound as something stepped along. There was a sight now, something bright and random, four of them. Realization dawned on him, it was sparks, than more horror came upon him, the pipes in the back someone(thing?) was dragging something - claws, perhaps?- along the horizontal pipes.

"I don't want no trouble," Dr. Two-brains kept the ray gun trained on the traveling sparks. "I don't play around here, just go away and we can all live happily ever after." His voice was shaky and hands even more so, but he stood his ground.

Silence, utter, horrible silence rang through the lair. Sparks flew, four long marks went along the pipes and caused some liquid during the doc's shooting spree to ignite, the flames moved fast and high, causing the intruder to have a silhouette. Claws, the doctor could see the short yet very thin and sharp claws on each hand. "Let's play a skin the cat."

That was it, he cried out, not even bothering with the gun anymore as he ran for the door. Laughter, he heard laughter while feeling something tear at his back, trying to cut his cheek, slice his arm and follow him around the hideout. Panic was blinding, between the intruder and the growing fire Two-brains had only one thought, throwing the ray gun out a window he covered his face - and second brain - and dove through the damaged glass. One the other side after landing he was grabbed, it was an police officer. They had arrived a few moments ago.

"Come pal, you right?" the officer was trying to get the doctor away from the building, he could see the fire building within it. "Call another ambulance, and a fire truck!" he shouted. "Hold still, everything's okay."

"The henchmen, where's the henchmen?" Doc muttered, this whole ordeal had sent him reeling.

"They are safe, only minor injuries an ambulance is coming, just hang tight." Two-brains was a bit dazed, being propped up against the black and white's tire he watched, before the ambulance arrived to take him and the henchmen away, the lair burn to the ground.


	4. There are scarier things then on the new

News travels fast, especially when it's about something terrible. By seven AM it was known by almost everyone that someone, something really, tried to harm one of the city's own villains. A few curious but at large they were frightened. Frighten that anyone would resort to such violence so easily, so readily, it was scary thought. And there were a few wanting action, and demanding a head on a plate.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

There's scarier stuff out there then the news lets on.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Mr. Botsford shot off, and you'll have to imagine what that meant.

Within the house was an attic, and within the attic was part where Mr. Botsford often snuck off for some a lone time. He carried a small tv, over the years he kept upgrading the thing until it was the flat screen leaning against the wall right now, and a media player, starting with a Beta that advanced all the way to Bluray. Next to a small chair that he kept for years was a stack of movies, pornos, and a rag. Now wiping up the Botsford man laid the rag back into place and wondered down stairs. There was his lovely, and very understanding, wife Sally and biological son TJ, sitting at the breakfast table. With a quick hand wash, with soap mind you, he sat down. "Where's Becky?"

"She had a report to give at school," Sally laid out some breakfast and coffee before him. "She was a bit of a wreck, wonder what kind of report it was."  
>"It's an art report." TJ spoke up with some food in his mouth. Quickly swallowing, "got to hand it over and repaint it or something."<p>

"Ah the repainting project," he was smiles then remembered what that was like with a shutter before returning to his good nature self. "Terrible times, I'll prey for Becky. Anyway what's happening in the Botsford household? TJ?"

"Not much, got a game Sunday," he shrugged. "I think."

"No that's next Sunday," Sally corrected, stirring her coffee a bit. "I got to go to work early today, a... an important case came up that needs my attention." Sally trailed off, not wanting to talk too much about a possible murder attempt, at least not in front of her son.

"Oh, well I'll have the..." Mr. Botsford trailed off, "massager ready when you get home."

TJ, silently, gagged as he knew what those pauses and codes meant. "I just remembered I had to get to school too," TJ quickly darted away from the table, almost as fast as Wordgirl, to get away from the zone of disgusting without puking.

"Guess I'll be heading out," Sally spoke without much cheer. "I have a criminal to look over."

"Good luck, sweety." Mr. Botsford kissed her before watching her leave. The house, all silent and still, he was a bit bored. Cleaning up a few places before returning to his little place in the attic, sorting through his collect he decided to watch the new video he just gotten. It was a rare, nearly out of print disk that he happen to be so lucky to pick up, reading the title he slid the disk into the machine.

"The erotic adventure of Murr Grrl," appeared on screen as he sat down before watching a brunette with large tits and a tight imitation WG costume come onto screen. A man, in the most obviously fake gorilla suits with some spandex on it, came into picture.

"Major Hug-her-face, help me!" the fake WG pleaded. "I need help, there's a bomb in my pussy and I need to disarm it, please help!"

To spare you the rest of the mind numbing scene picture the worst movie you'd seen with the most 'alright' porn you had seen and you kind of get the movie. There was a Put-cher with sausage powers and Lady Re-organism woman with multiple, well you can figure that one out. Yeah, it was one those movies, that almost make Back door slut part 6 look like Naughty Nurses 5.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Her stomach was flip flopping when floating into the police department, everyone was in an uproar as there were detectives running and rerunning over evidence. The station was usually busy, but it was nearly chaotic trying hard to find something to hunt down the attacker. Normally an officer would greet her, engage in idol chat then lead the superheroine to the lock up but not this time, the detective in charge had to be coaxed that it was a personal visit and a personal visit only. After some signing some official paperwork and proving it was just a visit and no investigation will be conducted, being lead by a officer into a small holding cell to the side. The doctor, along with his henchmen, were just sitting on the bench, bandaged up, run down and strung out.

"Wordgirl!" Two-brains was going to continue his typical gloat but yelped held his sore arm. "Where were you last night?"

"I had a curfew." she was a bit defensive, sympathetic but still defensive. She glanced over at the henchmen, with head bandaged and Charlie with a few gaze around his arms. "I'd ask if you're alright but that seems a bit..."

"Moot?" Dr. Two-Brains glared a bit but just lean against the wall, "well it really doesn't matter since we're all still a live."

"Yup." the henchman agreed while Charlie nodded.

"I would ask but legally I... Jeeze..." Wordgirl sat next to the doctor. "If there is anything I could do, legally I mean."

"A piece of cheese," the doctor muttered. "All of my cheese supply had gone up in the blaze, anything would be fine, well, except anything smoked, maybe."

"I'll see what I can do." with that she was guided out of the cell, outside Captain Huggyface was waiting, he chirped when he saw her. "Doc and the henchmen... got some injuries but he seems like he can pull through." Huggy nodded, he wanted to say something but kept his mouth shut as they took to the sky.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Kenny flicked his hoodie while just strutting around his new home, no really much use but it made him feel a bit 'cooler'. His family was for the first time in, well, ever, were actually a breakfast, Kenny manage to grab at the quickly vanishing pop tart stack and munched down. To spare everyone of the idle chat let's leap all the way to the part where he's leaving the apartment, which was on the top floor. Traveling through the building and greeting various residence of old South Park until reaching a certain black haired one.

"Hey Kenny."

"Hi, Wendy." Kenny was going to just walk on by, just keep on going.

"I saw you're new class partner." No such luck, he stopped and just smiled.

"She's nice, very in touch in nature and creative stuff." Kenny gestured and all that, "and also a neighbor of your desk buddy, Becky."

"Really, small world."

"It gets smaller," Kenny really did not want to say it but he came out with it, "and she was Cartman's study buddy, Er, partner."

"Oh Jesus!" Wendy rubbed her temple, this meant that her desk mate was going to be in a foul mood. Even after half a school day she could tell what her new friend was going to do, be silent, resentful towards humanity and basically snap at everyone. How she know it? Everyone who had met Cartman grew resentful, moody, silent and snappy. "Better smooth it out."

"It's going to take a lot more then just a quick smooth, it might take a steamroller though."

Heading down the stairs they ran into Stan, who was tumbling into the other side of the hallway, ending in a flop against the wall. Shelly, who had grown into a rough and tumble chick, her braces were still in and her hair was messy but she is still one hot bad mother -.

Shut you're mouth.

That's Shelly, baby.

"Hey Stan," both Wendy and Kenny said. "Hey Wendy."

"Turds." Shelly muttered with a nod before slamming the door.

"Hey." Stan straighten himself, "Screw you Shelly!" He just shrugged it off, "what are you guys doing?"

"Just talking about stuff." Kenny rolled his head a bit as the trio started down the stairs, "how's your native?"

"What native?" Stan was bemused.

"Study buddy." Wendy answered.

"Who?"

"The red head I saw you walking away with." Kenny pointed out.

"There was a red head?" Groaning together Wendy and Kenny just left the subject drop, sauntering through the tower until they reached Kyle, escaping from the watchful eye of his mother. Down the hall Cartman stumble into the hallway, appearing tired with messy hair and dark circles around his eyes. "Stayed up to master your ass?"

"Shut up!" Cartman glared at Stan. "For you information I was up working on my stupid report because of that damn spec threw me out last night."

"That's because you were..." Kenny frowned for a moment then remember who he was talking to and soften up, not much though. "Yourself.

"Yeah and you're poor!" Cartman started off, on the move again he turned to Stan like nothing happened. "So did that girl have anything worth while."

"Girl? All I saw was the Otama game sphere 180 X version 7.0, I had touched nirvana when I played with it."

"Awesome." the guys said, Wendy just shrugged. They continued on trading stories, insults and other boring character building things that will be skipped.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Tobey was intelligent, that was really clear, he had cunning too as he dealt with Wordgirl on a near daily course of his life. The problem did he have the wit, the instinct to survive without his nearly endless army of robots, and so far he was doing...

"OUCHIE! Splinter! Splinter!" he shouted while writhe about while holding a wooden bat.

... Not well. But he did have a plan, a very brilliant plan to bypass the court order without getting in more trouble. Glancing about while at school he looked down at his watch with a wry smile, everything was looking rosy. He noticed a small group had gathered near the entrance. Curious, yet cautious, Tobey veered towards the crowd and tuned an ear to the commotion.

"Yes, I, Professor Chaos!" he heard a frail, yet boastful, voice arise above the crowd. "I will bring about the downfall upon on you all, behold my plan!" there was a moment of silence, "wait a moment. Hang on." Within moments and several mutterings of 'wait' before the crowd began to just leave, bored students wonder off. Tobey watched, through the thinning masses, a girl with blond hair and very pale dressed in very tinfoil DIY villain costume holding, something, and trying very desperately to do something with in. "Ah fiddle sticks!"

"What are you doing?" Tobey raised a brow, head tilted in mystery while observing the whole thing. The blond girl looked up, completely innocent like some kid trying on big person stuff. "Are you, trying to be a supervillain?"

"I AM a supervillain, I am Professor Chaos. Oh nut fudget." Again whatever she was doing fell apart, Tobey normally would have just laughed at the poor child and walked away but instead stood there thinking. This kids looked so frail, suggestible and above all, Controllable.

"Perhaps you did not know I am a member of the Union of Supervillains Of Fair City."

"Real Supervillains don't have unions," she stammered, frowning a bit.

"Of course they do, how else do you think they can, uh, get out onto the streets so fast?"

"The revolving door of the legal system?"

"It's because we pool our resources for good lawyers, among other things." Tobey glanced side ways, the truth of the matter was it was a revolving door of stupidity and lack of hard evidence but that's another matter. "And I notice that you are a novice."

"A novice?"

"Yes, a beginner, someone who is starting out."

"I know what a novice is." the girl was mad, standing up and dusting herself off.

"Whoa, settle down girl."

"I'm a BOY!"

"What, really?" Tobey adjusted his glasses a bit confused before shrugging. "Well sorry about that, but the point still stands you are going to need someone to, in a way, guide you into true supervillainy."

"Well I am doing just fine by myself." The, dodad, puffed out some black smoke.

"I have an army of robots."

"Sure you do." she, er, he was skeptical before the genius took off his watch, handing it over he saw it was gray and sleek with some marks on it. "What's this?"

"Tap the purple marking." Tobey urged, the Professor Chaos had, with caution, tapped the purple "on" mark. There was a shadow, a low rumbling sound for a moment before the earth shook as the massive robot landed near them. "Believe me now?"

The kid glanced over at the boy genius after a moment of awe, "what do you need from me?"

"Just follow by instructions and I will mold you into the perfect villain." 'And further my own goals.'

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

"Attention, Hey! This is important! Sit down and shut up!" Granny May glared at the crowd, normally the rowdy villains would be surrounding the snack table or grouped talking about general things of villainy. But today it was deadly serious, sure there was talk but it was it was about the attack and a hush whisper of a crazed vigilante roaming the city. "This emergency meeting of the Villain's association will come to order. Now I realize many of you are a bit stirred over the news of Dr. Two-brains having a run in with a possible vigilante."

"Stirred?" Lady Redundant woman stood up, "We are more than just stirred. We're scared, alarmed, panicked even!"

"Yeah, I was so scared I had to bring my mommy, uh, I mean mother to this meeting." Chuck The Evil Sandwich Making Guy added in, gesturing towards his mother who was conveniently sitting behind the hanging fern.

Banging a gavel Granny May brought the room into order, "Calm down, calm down! Now there was an event last night, the police are not saying what happened but from what sources say this, vigilante, used traps and a form of grizzly scene to scare Two-Brains into pure fear and might have accidentally set his lab on fire showing off." Grizzly scene, for the outsider, is a pretty horrific way to cause fear by a villain, and some times a hero, within a target. It's a tactic by using props to strike terror into a person. It usually fails, a lot, as many could see through the scheme as those who imploy it use too much fake (real) blood, too much fake (real) body parts or the heads of relatives/allies seem too fake (but are real) to fool anyone, some times it even backfires and inspires rare in a person.

"Two-Brains was fooled by a grizzly scene?" Butcher now stood up, "I find that hard to bewiff."

"That's the story I got, and it's believe not bewiff." Granny May straighten up for a second. "But as it stands the police are working hard on catching the suspect, but we know how that will turn out so we must be vigilant ourselves, along with some common sense." Elderly yet hard eyes scan the crowd, "when the power goes out do not investigate the cause, if there is strange noises don't go looking for it and for the love of Pete's sake if you know this vigilante is around call the police, even it means getting arrested, spending a few days in lock up is better then leaving this madman run free."

"Agreed," a few members said while others just nodded.


End file.
